


sated

by YouAreMyDesign



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Choking, Collars, Creampie, Dark Will Graham, Dom Hannibal Lecter, Drowning, Exhibitionism, F/M, Gangbang, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, JFMU Challenge, Just Fuck Me Up 2019, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Reluctant Will Graham, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sadism, Strap-Ons, Sub Will Graham, Top Hannibal Lecter, Voyeurism, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham is a Cannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouAreMyDesign/pseuds/YouAreMyDesign
Summary: There is, on the other side of the door, a challenge; "Make him come."





	sated

The room Hannibal arranged for them is darkly-lit, and contains a single piece of furniture. It's a repurposed stockade, the hole in the center large enough to fit someone's waist or neck, and wrist holes on either side. The base of it melts and forms the legs of a chair, where Hannibal is sitting. Will knows it's him by smell alone, but blindfolded as he is, he cannot see Hannibal.

He whines, quietly, when the door opens.

Hannibal's hand is soft in his hair, gentle, and settles on the back of his neck. Will has his hips trapped by the center of the stocks, his arms pulled back so he can only stay upright by tensing his stomach muscles, but he senses they will give out soon enough. Hannibal has bound his knees with a spreader bar, keeping him wide open.

"Steady, darling," Hannibal murmurs, only to Will, and then he raises his voice; "Welcome. Make yourself comfortable."

Will is aware of every shift of air, of presence, in the room. They're not alone anymore, as if Hannibal's words weren't indication enough. He trembles, his fingers curling, his hips lifting up as much as possible in the tight restraints around them. The stocks are hard, unpadded, and grip him like nails and teeth.

"Pretty boy you've got there," the stranger says. He's a man, sounds older, sounds like he's from the South.

Though Will cannot see Hannibal, he knows he is smiling. His nails drag over Will's nape and Will shivers, moaning weakly. "Thank you," Hannibal purrs. He brings a knee to Will's cheek, lets Will rest against it, and Will sags, breathing hard as he feels the stranger approach. Will's hips are raised at a comfortable fucking height, his toes barely brushing the floor since his knees are stretched so wide. He has no chance to grab for leverage, will be able to do nothing but sag and moan and let himself be used.

His cock has been fed through Hannibal's side of the stocks, and Hannibal worked him up and got Will hard, before putting a cock ring around the base, so he can't soften no matter how cavalier and terrible his suitors for the night are.

There is, on the other side of the door, a challenge; "Make him come." Will has no idea how many will try, how much he's going to be forced to take. He bares his teeth and presses his nose to Hannibal's knee, whimpering when the stranger flattens big, callused hands on his ass and spreads him apart. Will knows the top of the stockade is tall so Hannibal can see the strangers' faces, but they will not be able to see Will.

He's just here to be used; an open and willing hole for strangers to fuck and fill. Will groans, already wet, ass clenching up as the stranger thumbs at his rim and lets out a rough, anticipatory growl. Then, there's a cock pressing into him. Will stiffens, grimacing, wanting to push away the intrusion because he knows it's not Hannibal. Hannibal likes seeing strangers fight their way into Will, likes seeing Will's face tense and tight, likes how he snarls and tries to buck them off like an animal rejecting a mate.

If Will had his way, he'd learn their faces and kill them all, after, for daring to touch him. But that's why Hannibal makes sure he can see them.

The stranger's cock is thick and bulbous at the head, relentless as he pulls Will's ass cheeks apart and fucks between them, grunting when he manages to get past the first ring of resistance, and sinks into Will's ass. Will groans, because despite it all the man is big, and thick, and fills him up nicely. He trembles, thighs tense, knuckles white, and snaps his teeth around a fold of Hannibal's clothes, jerking his head as the man grabs the top of the stocks and starts to fuck.

The force of it makes the stocks tremble, Will's cock and balls hitting the wood whenever he's forced back. It hurts, stings terribly, and Will moans weakly as he's fucked open and used. He can feel a wedding ring on the man's finger when he palms at Will's ass, swats him loudly, and imagines him going home to his wife stinking of a sweaty boy, wonders if he ruts into her like this. He doesn't like the thoughts, doesn't like how true they feel.

Hannibal pets through his hair, and Will can smell how much he likes watching Will take this; he rubs his cheek on Hannibal's thigh, collapsing as the man fucks him. His stomach sags, his shoulders drop, and Hannibal spreads his knees so Will's forehead lands on the floor.

He moans, seeking blindly as the new angle makes the man fuck into him a little deeper, thick cock stretching him. It aches, stings his abused rim, and Will gasps and shudders as the man goes still, coming with a grunt. He pulls out right away, makes Will burst and leak and Will's fingers flex, jaw clenching at the feeling of the man's warm come dripping from him. Hears it, puddling on the floor.

"Much obliged," the man says. Then, he leaves. Will is silent, panting, groaning as his sore hips protest the bruises planted there by the harsh edge of the stocks. In answer, Hannibal stretches a leg out, and Will licks the laces of his shoe.

The door opens again, letting another man inside, and Will can smell the cheap cologne on him from here. He groans in protest, shakes his head quietly – he doesn't want that man's scent in his nose, it burns and he's sure it's uncomfortable for Hannibal as well.

But Hannibal leans down, threads both hands through Will's hair, and kisses the arch of his ear; "Don't fight it, darling," he coaxes. After all, if Will truly wanted to revoke his consent, he knows how to do it. Will shivers, whining softly as the man steps up to him without a word, takes his cock and slams deep with a snarl. He grabs Will's thighs tightly, bruising him, tries to pull him back through the stocks until the hard edge butts up against Will's stomach.

It's dirty, debasing, utterly humiliating to just be used like this – they don't even know his fucking name. They don't care. The man digs his nails around Will's bruised hipbones and holds him tight and fast, kicks at Will's ankles to get him to spread wider and sink back. The only reason Will is still hard is because the cock ring doesn't let him grow soft, but his balls and cock are trapped in the stock hole, now, and it hurts, _fuck_ -.

"Do you think any of them really stand a chance?" Hannibal purrs, nuzzling Will's sweaty hair. He's smiling. "They're all pigs, aren't they, darling? And you're letting them fuck you." Will flinches, whimpering as the man grunts, either not hearing Hannibal or ignoring him entirely. "None of them know how to touch you, do they? Even if I let you out and let them make love to you properly, they don't know you like I do."

Will licks his lips, drops his head. He nods. That's the point. Will could be getting fucked by the best damn cock in the world and it wouldn't matter, because it's not Hannibal.

He clenches his eyes tightly shut, groaning as the man presses down on his hips, forcing him back through the stocks so he's in the right position again. The angle makes his cock drag along Will's prostate, fissures of heat working their way up his spine. Will ignores them, tunes it out and focuses on Hannibal's breathing.

The man goes still, coming with another grunt, and pulls out just like the first one did, uncaring for how his come stings Will's tender rim. Will hisses, clenching up tightly, shakes his head sharply as Hannibal pets him.

Hannibal laughs. "You're not being very accommodating for our friends, my dear," he says, and though the men touching him doesn't make him feel anything, Will's stomach clenches up and his chest turns cold and tight at the words. He lifts his head, blindly seeking Hannibal's hands, whimpering when Hannibal stops petting him. "I trust you'll be more polite with the next one."

Will understands what he's asking. When the door opens again, Will sags, lets out a sweet, wanton noise, and arches his hips in offering.

"Oh." Will blinks, surprised, for the voice is female. "Oh, what a lovely sight." Will hears her heels clicking along the floor, turns his head with a curious whine when her small, dainty hand flattens on his hip. His fingers flex and curl, nervously – women are different. Women won't come just from fucking him, can't be selfish with his offered hole.

He whimpers when she thumbs gently at his rim, sliding her fingers in. Three, at once, and angles them down to brush along Will's prostate. Will jerks in place, panting, heat in his belly abruptly surging and coiling as she touches him.

He feels, hanging between her thighs, a thick cock, heavy when she lifts it and lets it rut against his ass. He shivers, starting to sweat, breathing harsh as she pulls her fingers out, and laughs sweetly when Will eagerly presses back to her.

"Poor darling," she says kindly, and Will whines when Hannibal pets through his hair again. He can feel Hannibal's amusement, his curious pleasure, because he knows what Will does, too – this, this will be a challenge. The word 'darling' is a trigger for him, makes him think of Hannibal's teeth at his neck, his cock in Will's ass, his hands warm and wide on Will's body. It kicks Will in the back of his skull, and the moan he lets out is loud and genuine as she fists her strap-on and pushes it into Will's ass.

It's huge, and warmed from her touch, and slick, and Will groans, trembling harshly enough to rattle the stocks. She doesn't grab his hips, but his hands, their fingers lacing as she forces it in. Will whines weakly, arching back for her, his forehead to the floor because he can't keep his head upright. She pulls back, thrusts in again, and Will moans.

"Oh, _oh_ , God." He can't help saying it, gasping the words to the floor, which is now wet from his sweat and saliva. He wants to move, wants to fuck back onto her, and the sound he makes is frantic and plaintive when she lets go of one of his hands.

Then, the damn thing starts _vibrating_.

"There we go," she murmurs, as Will bucks and arches, his shoulders tensing and rising, his ass clamping down around the toy. The vibration is at the head and the base, ruts up over his prostate when she begins a slow, dragging rhythm. Will's toes curl, straining against his bindings. "Oh, Sir, he's so sweet. Why haven't I seen him here before?"

"It's his first time," Hannibal replies warmly. He slides a foot beneath Will's shoulder, gives him something to rub his cheek against, and leans down to tug on Will's hair.

She presses deep with the toy, the vibration of it sparking sensation on Will's sensitive rim. He's sore and shaking, so wet it just makes it worse, and Will clenches his eyes tightly shut, tears welling up and wetting the blindfold as he fights not to come. _God_ , it feels good, that toy feels _really fucking good_. He's leaking, his cock twitching where it hangs, his teeth gritted as she ruts smoothly in and out of him.

She moans, grinding against the vibrating base. Will hopes she comes soon; he's not going to last much longer. The toy is thick, fills him up perfectly, and Will moans loudly as she sighs, petting over his clenched fists, in along his bruised thighs, over his ass.

"Like this, baby," she purrs, giggling when Will's body sags, and the toy is forced more harshly against his prostate. Will tosses his head, caught when Hannibal holds him by the back of his collared neck. There's a ring at the back of it through which Hannibal circles his fingers, forcing Will upright, the angle so fucking _good_ , God, no, no -.

Will whines, and tenses up as she gasps, makes a low, sated noise, her hands fluttering over his sweat-damp skin. She turns the vibration off and pulls out and Will collapses with a groan, trembling, having been brought so close to the edge and suddenly denied any sensation.

"That was wonderful, Sir," she tells Hannibal. "Please, if you both come again, find me."

"Oh, we will," Hannibal promises, and Will listens to her heels click away, and the door closes. Will whimpers, breathing hard through parted jaws, and chokes when Hannibal pulls on his collar. "That was more like it, darling," Hannibal says, warm with pride.

"Please," Will gasps. "Hannibal, please, I need -."

"I know what you need," Hannibal replies sharply, twisting the ring so the collar tightens and Will is, momentarily, robbed for breath. He releases Will after a moment and Will groans, stomach clenching and entire body shaking in the wake of Hannibal's cruelty.

The door opens again, and Will whimpers. It's another man, and though he's no more skilled than the ones who came before him, Will is so sensitive now, so sore, that the second his cock breaches Will, Will screams, thrashing against the stocks.

The man laughs. "He's a wild one." He slaps Will hard on his ass, grabs his flesh and squeezes tight. "That's it, pretty boy, fight me." Will tries, his prostate swollen and sensitive, his cock leaking as he tries to fight not to come. He gasps, choked when Hannibal pulls on his collar again, and Hannibal hauls him up so his shoulders are on Hannibal's lap.

He hooks a thumb in Will's mouth, and releases the collar so he can take himself out, and feed Will his cock. Will chokes on it, neck too limp to move or do anything but take all of Hannibal in. Hannibal clogs his throat, coats his tongue with bitter precum, makes it impossible to breathe.

That man comes, and leaves. Another. Will loses track, knows nothing more than his burning rim, his flooded ass, the clamp of his lungs as he tries to breathe around Hannibal's hard cock. He's moaning loudly now, whorish and brazen, because Hannibal's scent is in him now and his brain can't reconcile the cock in his ass with Hannibal in his mouth, knows only that Hannibal feels good, his touch feels good, and if that feels good the rest of it should too.

The latest man finishes with a roar, his seed leaking out around his softening cock because there's so much inside Will. Will is close to passing out completely when Hannibal frees his mouth, and he gasps, collapsing to the ground. Hannibal stands, his movements quiet under the roar of blood in Will's ears, and he escorts the last man out, closes and locks the door, removing the sign before he does so.

He goes to Will, and parts Will's ass, making him clench and leak more. He's ruined, flooded, full to bursting, and Hannibal snarls.

"Please," Will moans. He doesn't even care if he comes, now, he just – he needs, _fuck_ , he needs Hannibal. He's sore and shaking, his hips hurt, his thighs ache terribly, his shoulders and neck don't feel like muscle and bone anymore, just liquid heat; molten metal to be formed as Hannibal sees fit.

Hannibal hums, the sound low and pleased. "You behaved wonderfully, darling," he purrs. He makes no move to release Will, or to touch him beyond baring his red, sore hole. "We will have a veritable feast by the time I track down all our friends and thank them for attempting our challenge."

Will whimpers weakly. "Please," he says again, hands straining as he tries to fight the stocks and reach for Hannibal.

Hannibal sighs. "No, my sweet Will," he murmurs. "You know I don't like touching you when I can smell another on you."

 _Then why all this?_ Will wants to demand, but he knows why. It's one of the ways he can prove to Hannibal that everyone else means nothing to him – Will is left spent and sore and broken open, shivering with the need to come, but none of it matters when Hannibal won't touch him.

Hannibal pulls away, and opens the stocks, carefully helping Will stand. He removes the spreader bar and Will collapses to his hands and knees, panting heavily, and clutches the blindfold when Hannibal makes to remove it.

"No," he says, and shakes his head. "Please. No. Not until you touch me."

Hannibal nods, nuzzling Will's hair. "Very well. Can you stand?" Will doesn't know, but he forces himself to try. His thighs shake and tremble, his knees are weak, his feet hurt. Hannibal wraps him in a blanket and embraces him gently. They walk out of the room together, pulsing music greeting Will and making him flinch with overstimulation. Along with it, the moans and shrieks of pigs as they fuck each other, their cries shrill and jarring.

Hannibal takes him to the car, using the blanket to hide Will's nakedness. The air is cold and makes him shiver, moaning weakly. He lets Hannibal gather him close and place him in the backseat, and moans with loss when Hannibal leaves him. He's shuddering like an addict robbed of his drug of choice, sweating and sour with distress.

The drive isn't long, but feels like an age. Will practically collapses when he's led inside, surrounded with the familiar scent and warmth of Hannibal's home. They go upstairs and Will sits on the floor as Hannibal draws him a bath, fills the tub with hot water and soap smelling of pomegranate.

He pulls Will gently, to his feet, and Will moans when his hands touch bare skin. He presses close, desperate for Hannibal's warmth and touch, lets the blanket fall and finally, finally, lets Hannibal remove the blindfold from his eyes.

He blinks in the low light, and sobs when he sees Hannibal's face. He clutches at strong shoulders, rubs his chest against the hair on Hannibal's, finds his neck and kisses there, open-mouthed and wet. Hannibal shivers against him, purring, and brushes his hands down Will's sweaty back, around the ring of bruises on his hips, the burning handprints embedded in his ass.

"Come, darling," Hannibal says, and removes the cock ring before he helps Will climb into the bath. Will settles, wincing at the heat, and closes his eyes when Hannibal climbs in behind him. Will is on his hands and knees, showing Hannibal his abused flesh, the water high enough to encase his cock and tease him.

Hannibal cleans him out, first, scooping what's left inside of Will out with thick, strong fingers. Will flinches, baring his teeth, outraged at the presence of so many other men inside him. The water turns milky with it, and then Hannibal has a washcloth, gently wiping it over Will's shoulders, his back, his thighs.

They leave the collar on. When Hannibal is done, he works his fingers through the ring on it, and hauls Will backwards so he's crouched on his haunches. Then, he forces Will's shoulders down, until his head is just above the water.

His other hand grips Will's hip, makes him slide back and spread his thighs, and Will moans loudly as Hannibal pushes into him. He's so open and wet, he feels water sink in when Hannibal leaves him, feels his cock pushing it back out. His stomach cramps up, stiff and sore, his ass burning from the water and the friction. It's so much, it's too much. Will digs his nails into the bottom of the tub and howls.

He sucks in a breath, and Hannibal snarls, and shoves his head down, forcing him to dip into the water. Will spasms around him, fighting to get free, lifts his head just long enough to suck in another ragged lungful before Hannibal forces him down again. Will is too weak to resist, the water rushes over his head, into his nose and ears, and he fights the urge to gasp, knowing he'll only get water if he does so.

Hannibal fucks him mercilessly, only letting Will up every now and again to let him breathe, before forcing his head under the water again. Will thinks of witch trials and survival training, of Navy Seals being forced to drown so they know what it feels like. His lungs burn, he wants to breathe in _so badly_.

He reaches back, paws at Hannibal's hip.

Hannibal hauls him up by his collar and Will groans, slams his free hand against the tub so Hannibal can't force him under again. He snarls, and Hannibal snarls right back, rears over him and uses his weight and strength to keep Will pinned. Will's thighs shake, his knees hurt on the tub, but it still feels so fucking _good_ to have Hannibal inside him.

Just as no one else compares to him, even Hannibal's cruelty feels better than anything else.

Hannibal growls, and plants his nose to Will's hair, letting out a rumble of pleasure. "That's better," he says, and wraps his arms around Will's heaving chest. Will covers his hands with one of his own, still braced against the tub, closes his eyes and moans as Hannibal fucks him. Hannibal's cock shoves against his prostate, cavalier in an entirely different way – not because he doesn't care, but because he knows Will so well, knows all his angles and sensitive spots, knows just how to fuck him to make him scream.

And Will does scream, tightening down around Hannibal and trembling as he comes, flooding the water with his own seed. Hannibal snaps his teeth around Will's shoulder, snarls as Will's tired, sore body clenches up around him. He goes still a moment later, gripping Will tightly, and fills him, and it's the best damn part of this whole night, feeling Hannibal rumble and shiver for him, knowing Will was the one who made it happen.

Will breathes out, lashes low, and turns his head to mouth at Hannibal's red cheek. Hannibal sighs, cradling his sore neck, and kisses him chastely. Will whimpers when he pulls out, repulsed by how open and wet he still is.

He hangs his head when Hannibal kisses the back of his neck. "Never do that to me again."

Hannibal hums, smiling, and eases his grip, petting gentle hands down Will's chest and stomach. "What if I want to?"

Will sighs, because they both know the answer to that. "Isn't your curiosity sated, now?"

"Yes," Hannibal replies. He shifts his weight, gathers Will close and sits in the tub, Will spread out across his lap. Will turns, so that he can see Hannibal, until he's facing the other way and can rest his forehead on Hannibal's shoulder.

Will sighs, smiling as Hannibal cups his hands in the water, idly pouring them down Will's back, warm palms following behind and gently massaging to soothe his aches. Will straightens, looks down at the ring of bruising around his hips, feels the chafed-raw soreness in his neck.

He meets Hannibal's eyes. "I'm not an animal," he says harshly. Hannibal's eyes flash, bright with affection, his smile warm and wide. "You don't get to chain me up and treat me like one just because you know I'll let you."

Hannibal laughs, softly. "You're right," he purrs. "Beasts like you should never be caged." He lifts a hand, cradles Will's cheek, and Will smiles, turning his head to nuzzle his palm. "You should be hunted in the open, overcome by someone worthy of you."

Will huffs, shivering at the idea. "…That we could do," he says.

Hannibal smiles, and tugs on Will's jaw, bringing him in for a kiss. "Perhaps after our hunt," he tells Will. "Seeing you, triumphant and bloody, and chasing you until you could no longer run from me, claiming you as my own…"

Will trembles, that mental image loud and sharp in his head. He gasps, and Hannibal uses the motion to take advantage, sliding his tongue into Will's mouth. He tastes like wine, like honey. Will arches against him, clinging desperately.

They part with smiles, Will's lungs too abused and sore to make the kiss last. Will sighs, and wraps his arms around Hannibal's shoulders, nuzzling his neck.

"I want to kill them," he whispers, pleased when Hannibal shivers and sucks in a large breath. "But that woman…not her." Hannibal nods, petting Will's hair from his neck, soothing the edges of raw skin where the collar still lies. "I liked her."

"I did too," Hannibal murmurs. "We shall have to find her again, when I take you back there."

Will stiffens. Growls.

"Not in the same capacity, darling. You're right; my curiosity is sated."

Will huffs, and nips Hannibal's neck in warning, but settles, warmed and soothed by the pleasant-smelling water, and the rush of his mate's heartbeat against his lips. "Good."


End file.
